EILEEN: 

A PLAY IN FOUR ACTS, 



BY 



Mrs. r. e. frey. 






^•^^-^ 



lL4Ub 



Copyright, 1S98, by Mrs. R, E. Frey, 



f' \r' VJ^ 




TWO '^^-I'^SRtCEIVED. 



2nd COPY, 
1898. 



CAST OF CHARACTERS. 

Hiram WeIvLS, a blind musician. 

Kii/EEN, his daughter. 

Johnny, his son. 

Mother Armitage, a dear old lady. 

Wii,i, Armitage, her sou. 

Edgar Deane. 

Daisy Pemberton. 

Marie. 

Daniei^. 



SCENES. 



Act I. — Home of the Wells' in a far western town. 

Act II. — Same (two years later). 

Act III. — Home of the Deane's iu New York City (two years later) 

Act IV. — Same (two years later). 



ABBREVIATIONS. 

Mr. fT— Hiram Wells. L. /?.— Left door. 

M. A. — Mother Armitage. R. D. -Right door. 

Ed. — Edgar Deane. C. D. — Center Door. 

Da7i'l — Daniel. H. D, — Hall doorway. 



SCENARIO, 



EILEEN WEIvIvS, a young woman of twenty summers, or there- 
abouts, and the daughter of a blind musician, whose wife is 
dead, is betrothed to Edgar Deane, a young man of her neighbor- 
hood, who has recently come into a large inheritance by the death 
of an uncle in New York City. Edgar's trip to the East in the 
interest of the settlement of the estate, is productive of deplorable 
results in that he falls into bad company and leads a wayward life, 
reports of which reach the ears of his townspeople. Eileen^ who is 
entirely ignorant of all things worldly, refuses to believe the 
reports. Edgar returns to his native city, calls at the home of the 
Wells', and finding Eileen alone, he pleads with her to leave the 
city with him on the next out-going train for the East. His powers 
of persuasion soon tell upon her trustful innocence and she leaves 
the house with him. B}' the time they reach the station, the awful 
truth of Edgar's designs dawns upon her — she hurries from him and 
returns home — there, to her great relief, she finds that the real 
cause of her absence from home has been kept from the knowledge 
of her father and brother by her friend and admirer, Will Armitage. 
Edgar is followed to New York City by Will Armitage, who 
helps him to reform. The}'' return home after an absence of two 
year.-:. Bdgar is now a doctor of medicine, he having been grad- 
uated from a New York medical college. 

Eileen is married to Edgar — after their marriage they take up 
their residence in the city of New York. Two years pass, during 
which time Edgar has become addicted to the use of a drug. In a 
fit of despondency over his inability to throw off the habit, he takes 
his own life and soon thereafter Eileen's sorrow is augmented by 
the death of her little son. Two years pass, and Will Armitage and 
his mother visit Eileen. After what threatened to be a serious 
misunderstanding between Will and Eileen, he finally declares 
himself and Eileen, whose admiration for her faithful friend has 
increased with the passing of the years, promises to become his 
wife and a happy ending is thus brought about. 



EILEEN 
A FOUR ACT PLAY. 



ACT I. 



Pleasant sitti7ig-room. Eliee7i is sewing on sew- 
i7ig machine. Mr. W. ente7^s at- left door with vio- 
lin and bow in hand. Time^ afternoon. 

Mr. W. — Ah Daughter! Always busy! Always busy! 
But there is something missing. 

Eileen (looking up from her work) — "Something 
missing?" And pray, what is it ? 

Mr. W. — Your voice of song, my dear. You have not 
sung a note to-day, and it makes me fear that my little 
housekeeper is not well. (He sits down.) 

Eileen — '' Not well?" (Laughs merrily.) I do not 
know how it feels to be ill. (Rises.) I have been so very 
busy, my hands have been constantly employed since our 
early morning meal, and my brain — is really (smiling) on 
the jump. 

Mr. IV. — And eveii so! What have I heard my little 
girl say about industr}^ and song ? 

Eileen-^That they should be inseparable. 

Mr. W. (smiling) — Then why divorce them ? 

Eileen — I have not. My heart is filled with pretty 
melodies. How could it well be otherwise, when Edgar is 
so soon to return? (Mr. W. frowns.) Wh}^ father, dear ! 
You are really frowning ! What can you be thinking of ? 

Mr. W. (haltingly) — I heard, only yesterday, that 
Edgar Deane is not the same man that we knew two years 
ago. (Nervously picks at violin.) 

ir/eV^72 (wears puzzled look) — Yes? (Brightens.) But 
father, that is not strange. We should expect some change 
in a person in two years' time. / have changed ; Johnny 



6 EILEEN: A FOUR ACT PLAY., 

has changed ; we a// have changed. Why (pleasantly), / 
have changed since last night. Last night I sat up till 12 
o'clock, digging into the histories of Rome and Greece ; 
learning all that I could of those ancient warriors, states- 
men and philosophers who have made the history of their 
countries. And in so doing did I not add a cubit to my 
mental stature ? 

Mr. IV. — You did, indeed ! A progressive change is 
a thing to be desired ; but its opposite — a thing to be fought 
against. 

Eileen — But, surely, you do not mean to say that the 
change in Edgar is other than progressive ? 

Mr. W. — It is, Eileen; if rumor be true. 

Eileeji (starts) — Oh, father! You certainly have been 
misinformed. How came 5^ou to give ear to such a story ? 

Mr. W. (rises; Eileen hastens to his side; he takes 
her hand in his) — My good child ! A few years ago (feel- 
ingly) I had but to look at your pretty face to learn the 
flow of my little girl's thoughts — they were always mirrored 
there. ^\x\.now the reflection, if there be any, is lost to 7ne. 
My children's faces are veiled from my eyes, (Caressingly 
strokes her hair.) When first I lost the light of your 
countenance — so like your dear dead mother's — the dark- 
ness that settled upon me was something appalling. I 
dared not speak, move or hardly breathe, so filled was I 
with terror. I tried to bear the visitation bravely, and to 
nerve myself to (with reverence) "Thy will be done," 
but the intense longing which would not be gainsaid, was., 
that I might see my children's faces. Time has flown! 
And I now interpret my son's and my daughter's heart- 
language by the intonation of their voices — there is not a 
rise or a fall which is not familiar to me — and / kiiow., my 
little woman, that you are very fond of Edgar Deane. 

Eileen — Fond of him? (Happil3^) To be sure, I am. 
And you are, too. (Coaxingly.) Come now, father; don't 
pretend that you do not know that Edgar is returning for 
the purpose of making me his wife. It was with your ap- 
proval that I received attentions from Edgar, and, before he 
went away, he obtained your promise to admit him as a 
member of our family upon his return. (Slightly reproach- 
ful tone.) I have never known you to break a promise. 



EILEEN: A FOUR ACT PLAY. 7 

Mr. W. — Promises, my daughter, are, as a rule, con- 
ditional, either expressed or understood. In this instance, 
it was understood. (Sharply.) No sane man would ex- 
pect me to give my daughter's hand to him after he had 
forfeited all rights to ask for the gift. 

Eileen — Oh, father! (Shocked.) You speak hastily. 
Edgar has not wantonly parted with his honor ! You can- 
not mean 

Mr. W. — Eileen ! (Stretches his hand to her — she 
hurries to him.) I do not know what Edgar has done 
during his absence from home, but a story reached my ears 
yesterday, which I was loath to believe, still, it bore the 
stamp of truth (she drops his hand and listens intently) 
and it has worried me not a little. 

Eileen — Has worried you, father? What was it? Do 
not fear to tell me. I ought to know. Come now, sit down 
(draws him to a chair — he sits down) and tell me all about 
this unfortunate bit of gossip. 

Mr. W. — When Edgar went East, it was, as 3-0U know, 
to be present at the settlement of his uncle's estate. 

Eileen — Yes. 

Mr. IV. — After he came into possession of a princely 
fortune, his letters to us came at long intervals and breathed 
a tone of studious formality, which we were not slow to 
detect. Why you, yourself, Eileen, dear, after reading one 
of his letters, declared that he had grown severely formal 
(she starts); and that you could not, somehow, identify 
Edgar with the writer of the letter. 

Eileen (aside) — I did say that. (Aloud.) But father 
— this is not to the point. 

Mr. IV. — No, child ; but it leads up to it. Listen ! 
'Tis said that Edgar's suddenly acquired riches have had 
a very disastrous effect upon — his morals — 

Eileen (starts) — Oh, no ! There is some mistake. 
(Paces to and fro.) There must be some mistake ! 

Mr. IV. — That he soon plunged into a sea of dissipa- 
tion, and that he now bears not the least resemblance to 
the Edgar Deane of our acquaintance. 

Eileen — Father ! You do not believe this slanderous 
tale? (Tearfully). The recital of it has made me very 
wretched. (He rises and she hastens to him). Eet us 



8 EILEEN: A FOUR ACT PLAY. 

(pleadingly) be charitable in our thoughts of the accused 
absent one ! 

3fr. IV. — I am willing, my child. For your sake ! 
For your sake! (She grasps his hands.) When Edgar 
arrives he will be given ample opportunity to acquit him- 
self of these ugly charges — until then we'll dismiss the 
rumor from our minds. 

Eileen (pats his hand) — Spoken like the dear, good 
father that you have always been ! I will not abuse your 
lenienc^^ 

Mr. IV. (starts) — It must be time for me to start for 
Entertainment Hall, if the lads and lassies are to have any 
dancing. 

Eileen (getting hat for him) — Yes, father ; it is time 
for you to start. Here's your hat. (He takes hat — she 
gets a shawl and places it over his shoulders. ) The old 
shawl is beginning to show its age but I hope soon to be 
able to purchase a beautiful one for my kind, dear daddy. 
(Smooths the shawl over his back and leans her head upon 
it for a moment.) 

Mr. IV. — Where is Johnny ? 

Eileen — I'll call him. He asked to go over to the 
square to look on at a game of base ball. (Opens C. D.) 

Mr. W. (smiling) — I can't go without my brave little 
guide. 

Eilee?i (stands in doorway — calls and beckons) — John- 
7iie ! Oh, John-?z/V. Come home ! You are wanted ! 

Johnny (in distance) — What for? What do you want 
me for ? 

Eileen (calls softly) — Ask no questions, but hurry 
along. 

E?iter John7iie {breathless and hat in hand). 

Johnny — Did you (to Eileen) see me catch that "foul" 
and toss it to the umpire ? 

Eileen — No, dear. I haven't time to lose in witness- 
ing a game of base ball. 

Johnny — "Time to lose?" You wouldn't say that if 
you understood the game. (Mr. W. is amused.) You'll 
speak with more respect of the game (with injured air) 
after/^/z?? Wells has become a "star twirler. " 



EILEEN: A FOUR ACT PLAY. 9 

Eileen — I called you to take father out to Eutertain- 
ment Hall. (vShe brushes Johnny's clothes.) You will 
reach there in time for a few minutes rest before father has 
to play. (Takes his coat down from a nail.) 

Johnny — Oh, we don't need coats a day like this. 

Eileen — Yes you will — just put it on (she helps him) 
and here are a few sandwiches (hands parcel to him) and 
a couple of apples (she puts apples into his pockets). And 
7101V, remember (with a motherly air), that you are 3. young 
gentlenian and conduct yourself accordingly (pats him on 
back). That's a good little man ! (Takes up violin and 
bow.) And here, Dad (Mr. W. takes violin and bow), is 
the village orchestra. (All smile. ) Give them some lively 
airs and let them forget for a few hours that there are such 
potent factors in life as time and tide. (Johnny takes his 
father's hand and they start to leave — Eileen opens C. D.) 

Jolmny and Mr. W. (as ih^y pass out) — Good-by, 
Eileen ! 

Eileen (standing in doorway)—. Good-by, father and 
Johnny, good-by! (Eooks at Xh^in.) God bless them! 
How very kind they are to me ! (Steps inside. ) Our home- 
life, though very humble, is truly a happy one. (Looks out 
at door.) There they go (waves hand), just turning into 

Twelfth street — good-by ! good-by ! (Screens eyes with 

hand.) The gentleman , and lady coming this way? 

Oh, 1 believe that it is Will Armitage with his mother ! 
(Steps inside and closes door.) The)^ are coming here. 
(Puts things in order.) I love the dear old lady! She 
was so very kind to us during mother's last illness — and 
then, mother's last words to me: "Eileen, dear, if you 
should ever feel the need of a mother's counsel, go to Mrs. 
Armitage." (Starts — looks at C. D.) Somehow, I feel 
that she comes upon a special mission, to-day. 

Knock at C. D. 

Eileen (opens wide the door and makes a little 
courtesy) — Ah, Mother Armitage! (They embrace. ) I'm 
so very glad to see you ! And Will (he stands outside) 
. how have you been — well ? 

Will — Very well, thank 3^ou. And you, 3^our father 
and Johnny ? 

Eileen — All well, thank you. Won't j-ou come in? 



10 EILEEN: A FOUR ACT PLAY, 

Will — Not this time, Kileen. I have some business 
to attend to for mother. I'll call for her as I come back, 
(lyifts hat.) Good afternoon ! 

Eileeri — Good afternoon, Will ! 

M. A. — Good-by, son ! (Will passes on.) 

Eileen (closes door) — Now, mother dear, lay aside 
your bonnet and your wraps and sit down. (Gives chair 
to M. A. and M. A. seats herself.) And then I will tell 
you about the happenings at our little home since my last 
visit with you. (She starts to untie M. A.'s bonnet 
strings.) 

M. A. (puts hands to bonnet strings) — No, dear! I 
can stay only a short while, so I will not lay aside my 
wraps. 

Eileen (pouting) — O-o-o-h ! Why not ? Not for a 
tiny while ? 

M. A. (smiling) — Some other day, dearie; some other 
day, when mother doesn't have to hurry back home. Now, 
bring your stool and sit down beside me, for I have some- 
thing to say to my little woman. (Eileen brings stool and 
sits beside M. A.) You know, I suppose (patting Eileen's 
hand), that Edgar Deane (Eileen starts) has returned? 

Eileeyi — No ! We have been expecting him, but we 
thought he would reach here about the end of the week. 

M. A. — Well, he arrived last night, and my call here 
this afternoon was prompted by — some rumors which 
reached me this morning. (Eileen starts.) Rumors^ 
which you, Eileen, ought not to be in ignorance of. (Eileen 
listens intently.) I have been told that Edgar Deane has 
become an immoral man. (Eileen starts to her feet.) So 
much so, that he deserves to be shunned by all of his asso- 
ciates of days gone by. 

Eileen (with signs of mental distress) — Oh, Mother 
Armitage ! It can't be true ! (Sits down on stool.) I 
can't believe it. (Sobs in M. A.'s lap.) It is too horrible! 

M. A. (stoops and caresses Eileen) — How much of it 
is true I cannot say. I do not know. It may be that the 
report is overdrawn — exaggerated. I do most truly hope 
that it is. I have told you the story as it came to me. I 
wish to shield you from all evil. (Eileen sobs.) I could 
not love you more were you my own child ; and you must 



EILEEN: A FOUR ACT PLAY. U 

know that it tries me sorely to be the bearer of such heart- 
rending news. (Ivong pause.) It calls to mind a bitter 
experience through which I passed many years ago. (M. 
A. sighs deeply. Eileen raises her head and looks into M, 
A. 's face.) I will tell you. In my girlhood days 1 fell 
into love with one of the handsome boys in the neighbor- 
hood of our home in the Bast. My parents were strongly 
opposed to the match because of the wild and reckless habits 
of my suitor ; so we planned and carried out an elopement. 
(Eileen starts.) To our letter to them, asking forgiveness, 
their reply was — that as we had chosen to act for ourselves 
in a matter of so great importance we should hardly need 
their advice upon any future question ; that our letters 
were unwelcome, and that they should receive no recogni- 
tion after that day. 

Eileen — How very cruel ! (Rises.) 

M. A. — After the receipt of that letter my husband 
became more reckless and dissolute, and at the end of two 
years he was laid to rest. Five years after his death Mr. 
Armitage and I were married, and when our little one came 
to us we were very happy. (Slowly.) And we now vq- 
joice in the possession of a noble, manly son. (Rises and 
goes to Eileen and takes her hand in hers.) I have 
revealed to you this dreary act in the drama of my life, 
believing that it will prove to be an object lesson to my 
little girl. And I ask you to promise me this — that if you 
find that these rumors about Edgar are not untrue, that you 
will not overlook his faults and take upon yourself the task 
of reforming him, but, ivisely, make up your mind to forget 
his very existence. 

Knock at C. D. 

M. ^.— That is Will— I'll go to the door. (She walks 
to door, opens it and looking out, says) : Walk on, son, 
and mother will join you soon. (Closes door and goes back 
to Eileen.) 

Eileen (with outstretched hand, which M. A. grasps) — 
I'll try to do all that you ask— I'll try. 

M. A. (embracing Eileen) — I'm sure that you will — 
and now I must go. (Goes to C. D. — Eileen follows.) 
Good-by, dear. (Kisses Eileen.) Good-by ! 

Exit M. A. 



12 EILEEN: A FOUR ACT PLAY, 

Eileen (stands in doorway — looks in direction of M. 
-A.) — The dearest woman in the wide, wide world ! Will 

waits for her. There, he raises his hat as she joins him, 

and they start for home, arm in arm ! To him, she is the 
first lady of the land ! She may well be proud of her manly 
son ! (Closes door — looks dreamily before her.) If I had 

never met Edgar Oh, nonsense ! What am I thinking 

of ? (Looks around in a dazed fashion.) I have some sew- 
ing to do but — I really haven't the heart. (Sinks into 

chair — finally starts.) What is this story (rises) which is 
being- sowm broadcast, to the injury of the man whom I 
adore? Why ! (Brushes hair from temple and excitedly 
paces to and fro.) Mother Armitage ! I'm surprised that 
you so readily listened to so vile a slander. (Starts 
guiltih'.) But I listened, too, did I not? Ah, human 
nature — what a bundle of deceit it is. (Excitedly.) This 
story is all a grievous wrong ! They have misjudged 
him — I'm sure of it ! They say "he is changed." And, 
why not, pray? A jump from a few paltry dollars a week 
to a fifteen thousand annual income is enough to make any 
one change. He can afford to wear broadcloth, a gem or 
two and a few loft}^ airs, /think that it must be an easy 
matter to become accustomed to the luxurious things in 

life 1 don't think that it would take me very long to 

feel that I was "to the manner, born." (Smiles ) Ah, 
yes ! If Edgar had returned, wearing his old shin}- suit 
and weather-beaten hat, they would have crowded one 
another to make room for him — as it is, they unite in 
declaring him a profligate, a riotous liver, but he can not 
charge me with want of faith, for I still believe in him. 

A loud knock at C. D. 
(Eileen hastens and opens door — Enter Edgar Deane.) 

Eileen (in the embrace of Edgar) — Edgar ! 

Ed. — My dear Eileen ! And you are glad to see me, 
are you? (Eileen withdraws from his embrace.) 

Eileen — Glad to see you ? (Laughingly.) More glad 
than I can tell ! (Hastens to place chair for him.) Oh, 
Edgar ! What a pleasure to have you with us once more ! 
(He sits down — hat in hand.) Let me have your hat? 
(He hands hat to her, which she quickly places on table.) 
And your gloves and coat? Father and Johnny will be 
home before long. 



EILEEN: A FOUR ACT PLAY. IS: 

Ed. (nervousl30 — No, dear Eileen ! I'll not remove 
my coat. I can not stay. 

Eileen (aside) — "Can not stay?" He seems ill at 
ease. (Turns to him. ) Edgar ! (Softly and hesitatingly. ) 

I hope that our humble surroundings do not make 

you feel uncomfortable ? (He rises.) You have not for- 
gotton (slight tremor) the dear old days ? 

Ed. (aside) — There is no time for delay. I must win 
her over as soon as I can. (Turns to Eileen.) No, dear, / 
have not forgotten ; but it doesn't take long for one to get 
used to high living and exclusive styles. (Smiles.) 

Eileen (the picture of innocent wonderment) — I sup- 
pose not — that is what I have always thought. 

Ed. — I came back to this quaint little town, thinking 
to pick up the thread of life where I left it when I went 
away but 

Eileen — Yes ? 

Ed. — I can't do it. I'm going to leave town 

to-night. 

Eileen (staggers and clutches his arm) — To-7iighif 

Ed. — Yes, to-night. Half an hour from now, I'll 
leave for New York. 

Eileen (breathlessly) — To remain? 

Ed. — To remain. But I shall be most unhappy itt 
leaving, unless you, Eileen, accompany me. 

Eileen (starts and steps back from him) — Acco?npa7iy 
you f To-night ? 

Ed. — Yes, Eileen. (Coaxingly. ) There is no sense 
in putting it off — we have waited so very long. I wish to 
give you that which you have hardly dared to hope for — 
a beautiful home. I wish to make you supremely happy. 

Eileen (innocently) — But why not wait and be married 
here, that our. old friends may congratulate us? I should 
be very sorry to leave without their well-wishes ringing in 
my ears. And father and Johnny — I should like to have 
them go right along with us instead of coming afterward. 

Ed. (takes her hand but looks away from her) — The 
reason why we cannot wait is, that I have a business enter- 
prise under way in New York City and / must be there to 
give it my personal attention. (L,ooks at her.) There is 
no time to lose — ive must leave, to-night. 



14 EILEEN: A FOUR ACT PLAY. 

Eileen (her ej^es search his face) — But didn't you know 
of this business matter, ^^esterday ? Could we not have 
been married this morning ? 

Ed. — I received the dispatches calling me East only 
an hour ago. Gome Eileen ! We haven't time to worry 
over the "whys and wherefores." If there are any little 
preparations which you wish to make, you must make 
haste about it, as (refers to watch) in fifteen minutes from 
now we must be on our wa}- to the station. Your father 
and Johnny will be handsomel}^ provided for — write them a 
few lines of explanation (takes roll of bills from his pocket) 
and enclose this, which will more than supply their wants 
until we send for them. 

Eileen (takes money) — Oh, Edgar! You are so ver}- 
kind and thoughtful ! Yes, I'll write and tell father the 
reason why we are going to make so sudden a departure 
(hurries toward R. D.) and — after a hasty toilet — I'll be 
ready to leave. 

Ed, — Do hurry, Eileen ! 

Eileen (smiling) — In — about — five minutes. 

Exit Eileen at R. D. 

Ed. — M}^ ! What a stew I'm in ! (Nervously paces 
floor.) When her innocent eyes searched my face for an 
explanation, I was on the point of confessing my duplicity 
and begging for mercy — I almost wish that I had. (Heaves 
a sigh. ) The red fellow with horns must have a very firm 

grip on my anatomy. I had thought to wait until I 

tired of my rapid gait, then marry Eileen — " settle down " 
and ever thereafter live one of those beautiful, prosy liv^es, 
which we read of now and then. Bid — I now figure it 
this way — if I leave the girl another year, that paragon of 
perfection, Will Armitage, will cut me out — and there I'll 
be — full of years, not worth a rap and "no one to love 
me." (Shakes head and smiles.) No use ! I can't live 
in this rustic town and I must have Eileen — but to marry 

her now is well — inconvenient. 

Enter Eileen — dressed for the street. 

Eileen — Well, Edgar ! I'm ready. (Goes to table.) 
I'll leave the letter for father here, on the table. And' 

now oh ! how I do wish that they were here to say 

"good-by !" 



EILEEN: A FOUR ACT PLAY. 15 

Ed. (at C. D.) — But we can't wait, Eileen, dear ; we 
should be at the station — it is late. 

Eileen — I know but — somehow (show of emotion) 

I long to see them before I go. (Opens album on table.) 

Ed. — Come, Eileen ! What are you doing? 

Eileen — It is the album — I'm bidding mother, father 
and little John "good-by." (Closes album.) 'Tis almost 
dark. (Hurries.) I'll light the lamp (lights lamp on 
table), and now (looks around). 

Ed. (nervously) — We'll miss the train if you stop to 
do anything else. 

Eileen — Yes, yes ! We'll go ! 

Exit Ed. and Eileen. 
(Soon afterward voices are heard — then knocks on C. D. ; 
after a short interval the door is unlocked from without and 
Johnny steps into the room, carrying violin — followed by- 
his father and Will.) 

JoJuiJiy (who has opened doors to right and left) — 
Eileen isn't here, father. 

Mr. IV. — No? Well, she has, I suppose, called on 
one of the neighbors and will return before many minutes. 

Mr. IV. — Will, my boy, please help yourself to a seat ! 
You don't have to hurry home, do you? (Walks to chair 
beside table and sits down.) 

Will — Oh, no ! I'm in no great hurry. (Seats him- 
self near Mr. W.) 

Mr. W. — Here, son, put away my shawl and my hat 
(hands shawl and hat to Johnny) and then 3^ou may retire, 
if you wish, for you must be tired and sleepy by this time. 

Exit Johnny at L. D. 

Mr. W. — Well, the festival-people had a beautiful 
day and they seemed to make the most of it. 

Will — So you were saying. 

Mr. W. — Yes ! A most enjoyable affair ! You should 
have gone. Will. 

Will — I had thought of going, but changed my mind 
and attended to some business matter for mother, instead. 

Joluiny (pokes head in at L. D.) — Good-night, Mr. 
Armitage ! 

Will — Good-night, Johnu}^ ! 

Johnny — Good-night, dad ! 



16 EILEEN: A FOUR ACT PLAY. 

Mr. IV. — Good-night, son, good-night ! 

Exit Johujiy. 

Will — Have you met Ed. Dean since his return ? 
Mr. W. — No, Will, I haven't. I was told, this after- 
noon, by William Franklin, his old chum, that Edgar in- 
tended to leave the city to-night. (Will starts.) I, for 
one, shall be glad to hear that he has left, for I heard 
enough this afternoon to make me believe that Edgar 
Deane is a man to be shunned by all honest, straight- 
forward persons. (Dreamily.) I must tell Eileen. Oh, 
now (feels on table), what am I thinking of? There's a 
box of cigars here — we'll have a smoke! (Finds letter.) 
What's this? (Hands letter to Will.) Here, Will— will 
you please read it to me ? I suppose that Eileen left a 
note — telling me where she was going. (Will opens letter, 
starts and trembles— Mr. W. finds cigars and passes them 
to Will.) Here they are, Will — have one ! 

J>Fz7/ (takes a cigar) — Thank 3'ou ! (Hesitatingly.) 
Why — Eileen wrote — that — she was going — to mother's, 
and that she would — be back b}^ nine o'clock — that you 
— and Johnny must not — wait up for her. (Aside as he 
rises.) She will realize her folly before it is too late. I 
would stake my all upon her return to-night. (To Mr. 
W.) And now, Mr. Wells, I'm going home, for I see that 
you are sleepy and in need of rest. (Hurriedly writes a 
few lines on letter.) 

Mr. W. (drowsily) — I a^n sleepy, but I'll wait here, 
in my chair, for Eileen's return. 

Will — Oh, no ! You go to bed, and I'll go over and 
get Eileen. 

Mr. W. (rises, extends hand to Will, who leads him to 
L. D.)— All right, Will. Just tell her to call out " Good- 
night " to me when she comes. (Shakes hands with Will.) 
Good-night, Will. 

Will — Good-night, Mr. Wells; good-night. 

Exit Mr. W. by E. D. 

Will — I'll add that — (goes to table; writes a few lines; 
puts letter, with money, back into envelope,) — she'll see 
it here, and look to learn if it has been opened. Now, 
(distractedly) I'll go and wait outside, in the shadow of 
the house, until I see her enter. 



EILEEN: A FOUR ACT PLAY. 17 

Exit Will by C. D. 
(Noise outside at C. D. Eileen enters, hat in hand, 
breathes heavily, is pale and trembling, hair loose and dis- 
arranged.) 

Eileen (whisperingly) — What a death-like stillness ! 
(Starts.) The letter ! (Hurries to table, picks up letter.) 
It has been opened ! They have been home ! (Lays it 
down; goes quietly to L- D. ; looks into room; quietly closes 
door.) They are sleeping ! They did not read the letter ! 
(Goes softly to table and opens letter. Starts.) What is 
this? (Reads aloud.) "Dear Eileen, I know that you 
will return to-night. Your father asked me to read the 
letter. (Faltering tones.) I told him that you had written, 
that you were going to mother's, and would be back by 
nine o'clock ; that he and Johnny must not wait up for 
you. Your faithful friend. Will." (She totters, then seats 
herself.) There's something added. (Reads aloud.) "I 
have prevailed upon your father to retire, saying that I 
would call for you and bring you home. Your father asked 
that you call out ' Good-night ' to him when you come in. 
— Will." (Presses the letter to her lips.) You holy man ! 
I'm not worthy such pure devotion. 

(A whistle and bell, as of a passing train, is heard.) 

Eileen (starts) — The train ! He is leaving ! (Picks 
up lamp and hurries to window beside C. D. ; holds lamp 
to window till the sounds of the passing train have died 
away; then staggers to table, puts lamp down, sinks into 
chair. A cough is heard from her father's bed-room. She 
starts.) 

Eileen — Father is restless. (Rises.) I must say 
"Good-night" to him. (Goes to ly. D., opens it and, in a 
low voice, calls) — Good-night, father ! (Listens.) 

Mr. VV. (from within his room) — Good-night, Eileen. 
Are you feeling well ? 

Eileeji (starts guiltily, a little forced laugh) — What a 
question for you to ask ! (Listens.) 

Mr. W. (from within) — I thought that there was a 
tremor in your voice; but I — am — half — asleep. Good- 
night, little woman. (She shudders; closes door; staggers 
to chair beside table; sinks into chair, moaning; rests elbow 
on knee, head on hand; stares before her.) 



18 EILEEN: A FOUR ACT PLAY. 

Enter Will at C. D. 

(He is pale and haggard — she raises her head as if 
aware of a presence other than her own — slowl}^ turns 
around and, seeing W^ill, she hastil}^ rises — ) 

Eileen (faintly) — You here? 

Will (softly) — Your father and Johnnj^ — are the}^ 
sleeping ? 

Eileen (goes to L. D. and listens.) — Yes, they are 
sleeping. (With head averted.) Your errand — what is it? 

Will (quietly steps to her side) — I shall leave for New 
York to-morrow night. (Eileen starts and casts a frightened 
look of inquiry at him.) Mother and father have fre- 
quentl}^ asked me to make the trip that I might become 
acquainted with father's brother, my Uncle John, and 
mother's sister, my Aunt Annie. My plans for the journey 
were formulated but a few minutes ago. While my going 
away will appear to be for the purpose of visiting relatives ; 
my real object will be to help my old friend, Ed. Deane 
(she starts and stares at him) make a viaii of himself. I 
may make slow headway but I will, eventually succeed., and 
when I do, I will bring him back to you. All I ask, is 
that you be patient and wait for him. I shall call in the 
morning to say Good-by — 

Eilee7i — You may run great risks in your self-allotted 
mission. (Dilated eyes and nervous manner.) Edgar is 
sadly cha7iged. 

H^/7/ (sadly) — Never fear ! I have counted the cost. 
(Starts for C. D.) Good-night ! 

Eileen (softly and in strained voice) — Good-night ! 

Exit Will by C. D. 

Eileen looks the picture of utter loneliness. 

Curtain. 



EILEEN: A FOUR ACT PLAY. 19 



ACT II. 

Eileen enters at R. D. — open letter in ha7id. 
Tinie^ afternoon. 

Eileeen (looking at letter) — Yes, 3'es ! Let me tliiuk. 
(Meditates. ) I must look at the date of this letter. (Refers 
to first page of letter.*) Why they will be here to-day ! 
They are even now in the city. (Puts letter into pocket ) 
Oh ! How shall I prepare father for Edgar's return ? He 
has not spoken of him since that day, two years ago, when 
he told me of the ugly rumors which had reached his ears 
a day or two before. I know that he has often thought of 
him and that Edgar's name has been on the end of his 
tongue a score of times or more, as it has on mine, but we 
have refrained from speaking about him. Father had his 
reasons — I had mine. (She sighs.) I thought that it 
would be very eas}' ; that w^hen the time arrived I should 
tell dear dad in a burst of joyfulness — - — but now — 
(Straightens up.) Oh, well !^ It must be done and /have 
got to do it. He's in his room. (Walks to E. D.) I 
wonder if he will be out soon ! (Quietly opens L. D. — 
look into room, then closes door.) He is putting away his 
bow, which he was repairing — he will be in here before 
long. Father will rejoice over Edgar's reformation. (Per- 
plexed look.) Oh! how shall I begin ? (Meditates.) I'll 
begin by saying, "Oh, what if Edgar should return?" 
(Stops suddenly.) No, no! That will not do — 'tis 
abrupt, and I must not startle him. My desire is to lead 
up to the subject in such a manner that we will be talking 
about Edgar almost before father is aware of the fact. 
I'll say— 

Enter Mr. W. at E. D. 

Ah, father! (Nervously.) Is our bow repaired and 
ready for use? (Smiles.) 

Mr. W. — Yes, Eileen. It was a tiresome piece of 
work. I feel like resting a bit before I start to spade the 
garden for 3'ou. (Sits down.) 



20 EILEEN: A FOUR ACT PLAY. 

Eileen (at his side) — Oh, yes, father, do rest ! (Nerv- 
ously.) A week or two hence will be early enough for 
spading the garden. (Starts as if about to tell him some- 
thing.) Have you — have you heard — ? 

Mr. W. — Well? Have I heard — what is it that you 
would ask me ? 

Eileen (confusedly) — Have you heard from — Uncle 
James, lately? 

Mr. W. — Why, yes ; to be sure I have. Didn't I 
receive a letter from him, yesterda}^ ? Where is your 
memory ? 

Eileen (faintly) — Oh, yes ! I'm so very forgetful. 
(Show of nervousness.) And he and his family were w^ell, 
weren't they ? 

Mr. W. (starts)— " Well?" (Eileen starts.) Your 
Unble James was feeling poorly when he wrote and every 
member of his family was ailing. You certainly must be 
dreaming. You are in the house too much, Eileen ; you 
need more out-of-door exercise and recreation. I have told 
you this so often that I begin to despair of your ever acting 
upon my advice. 

Eileen — But you mustn't despair, father dear, as I 
am about to take your advice lo heart — I am, indeed ! 
(Radiant face.) I shall be more in the open air from to- 
day on, than I have been since the days of my childhood, 
when I helped my dear mother keep her beds of posies 
looking trim and sweet. Oh, father dear ! (Softly and 

sadly.) I have been bearing a heavy burden 

(he starts — she walks to and stands behind his chair ; 
lovingl}^ placing her hands on his shoulders) for a long 
time. I have prayed for the moment to arrive when I 
might throw it off my mind, but now that the time has 
come (he listens intently) I find my strength unequal to 

the task. (Stoops over him.) Can't you can't you 

guess what it is, dear father? 

Mr. W. (rises) — Your words ring out an alarm ! You 

You have been keeping something from me You 

have taken advantage of my sightlessness. 

Eileen (glides to his side and takes his hand) — No. 
No; not that. I have hardly done so despicable a thing. 
Listen! I have kept secret a little affair (he starts) which, 



J 



EILEEN: A FOUR ACT PLAY. 21 

when you have learned the history (sweetly) of its origin 
and tender growth, will not make you call me a culprit, 
though I feel like one. (She sighs — he smiles.) Oh 
Father, 71021' can 3^ou guess? 

Mr. IV. (smiling) — Not quite — that is, I shouldn't 
feel altogether safe in so doing; if you will give me the 
further aid of a few more details, I will then venture a 
guess. 

Eileen (great show of nervousness) — Well, then — — 

if I were to write the story of my secret, omitting all 

the sighs, fond expectations, hopes and heart-longings, my 
writing would cover a page or two. But should I write it, 
(his face shows lively amusement) and fail to omit the 
things which I speak of (long pause) 

Jkfr. IV. (smiles)— Yes? 

Eileen (starts toward him) — Father! You have 
guessed it! 

Mr. IV. — Not yet, my child; I may, when 5-0U finish 
your sentence. (Eileen looks distraught.) If you should 

write it and fail to omit the things which you speak of 

what then ? (He saunters away.) 

Eileen (takes courage) — Why, then, 'twould be a long 
drawn out stor}^ (Pause.) In your early manhood, when 
you were fond of reading, did you care for the romantic in 
literature? (Listens breathlessly for his reph'.) 

Mr. IV. — I did, indeed! (She sighs as if somewhat 
relieved.) I have, more than once, experienced a bit of 
heartache because of the unhappy turn of affairs in the life 
of the hero or the heroine of a pretty romance. 

Eileen (dreamil}^) — In the novel, as I should write 
it, ever}^ punctuation mark should be a chapter in itself. 
The commas would be freighted with tears; the dashes 
with weary sighs; the periods with sturdy hopefulness ; (he 
smiles) until at the end (pause) 

Mr. IV. — Yes, at the end, the final period, dash, or 
what you will, would be lost sight of, buried by an army 
of fulfilled desires. I believe that I understand you Eileen, 
(she steps close to him) and I am 7i07i' ready to make a 
guess. My ^uess is — that my little daughter is in love! 

Eileen (joyously) — Father! What a splendid guess! 
You are a good hand at guessing! And 7iow you must 
guess the name of your future son-in-law. 



22 EILEEN: A FOUR ACT PLAY. 

Mr. W. — Oh, now! That is hardly fair; still, to please 
you, I will try! What are his initials? (She starts.) 

Knock at C. D. 

Eileen (takes her father's hand and seats him) — Come 
and sit down father and let me see who is at our door. 
(Looks perturbed as she hurries to door — opens door.) 

Enter Daisy. 

Eileen. — Oh! Only Daisy Pemberton! 

Daisy (jestingly) — ''Only Daisy Pemberton!" Thank 
you, your pretty compliment is out at interest, (Mr. W. 
laughs) same to be paid when next you come to see me. 

Eileen — Excuse me, Daisy? My tongue has made so 
many slips to-day that I fear that I am losing control of the 
"unruly member." (All smile.) 

Daisy (sitting down.) — I'm tired ! I went down to do 
some vShopping ; visited all the dry-goods houses and made 
07ie purchase. (Holds up tiny parcel — all smile.) 

Eileeii — Well, that is better than to return without 
having made a purchase. 

Daisy — Mother sent me down to buy some table-linen 
which was advertised in last evening's "News," but the 
crowd was so great that after repeated attempts to get to 
the sale-counter, I finally gave up trying. I stopped to 
look at the handkerchiefs ; saw some pretty ones for fifty 
cents apiece — said to have been reduced from a dollar. 
(All smile.) I bought two (holds up parcel) and started 
for home. (Sighs.) 

Mr. W. — Well, Daisy, you come from a busy part of 
town — what's the news? 

Daisy — "News," Mr. Wells? I haven't any. Oh, 

yes I have ! It would take j^ou forever to guess whom I 
met on Fourth street. I met — Will Armitage and Edgar 
Deane ! 

Mr. W. (aside) — Confound him ! 

Daisy — Will is looking well and Edgar ! looks a per- 
fect Apollo. I stopped to shake hands with them 

Mr. W. — They were not together ? 

Daisy — Oh, yes they were and they looked decidedly 
happy in each others company. (Eileen smiles — Mr. W. 
wears puzzled look.) Will thinks of remaining here but 
Edgar will return to New York — he is an M. D. — was 



EILEEN: A FOUR ACT PLAY. 23 

graduated from a New York medical college just one month 
ago. 

Mr. VV. — Who was? Will Armitage ? 

Daisy — No! Edgar Deane. And that reminds me- 



A few years ago when Edgar visited our beautiful city (all 
smile) brother Fred came home one evening and told me 
that he had heard (Eileen looks annoyed) that Edgar had 
become an inebriate, that he was always under the influ- 
ence of liquor. I did not then believe the report and I 
certainly do not Jiozc, for no man of intemperate habits 
could look as Edgar does to-day. (Rises.) But I sta}' too 
long. 

Eileen — Don ' t h n rr}^ . 

Daisy — If I tarry longer (walks to C. D.) mother will 
think that I was wounded and disabled at the sale-counter. 
(All smile.) Come over, Mr. Wells, and have a tall^ with 
papa. 

Mr. IV. — Thank you, Daisy. I will — I'll come over. 

Daisy (in doorway) — We didn't see yo2i, Eileen, all 
day yesterday, and mother said, tin's morning, that she was 
lonesome for you — so, run over, to-day, if you can. 

Eileen (pleasantly) — The day is almost done but I'll 
try to run in for a little while this evening. 

Daisy — All right. Good-by ! 

Exit Daisy at C. D. 

Mr. IV. a7id Eileen — Good-by. (Eileen closes door. 
Eileen leans against door — her father remains seated — long 
silence — she approaches him.) 

Eileen (tremulously) — Father! (He doesn't move.) 
Daisy has told you what I was trying to tell you, just before 
she came. (Softly.) Edgar Deane is the man of whom I 
spoke and his is the name which I requested you to guess 
when the knock at the door interrupted our conversation. 

Mr. W. (rises and takes a few steps) — You have cor- 
responded with Edgar ? 

Eileen — No. father, I have not. (He looks relieved.) 
My source of information was Will's letters to his mother. 
He wrote of Edgar's success in his studies, and my hopes 
soared higher with every letter that Mother Armitage 
received. Still, I was not sure^ and fearful that, by telling 
you, I should make you a co-sufferer wath myself, I with- 



24 EILEEN: A FOUR ACT PLAY. 

held the news. I wished you to share my joys alone. 
(Leans on his arm.) Dear daddy, you forgive me ? 

Mr. IV. (pats her hand) — I do forgive you. Will's 
indorsement of Edgar is sufficient guarantee for me ! 

Eileen (joyfully) — That's like, my dear, good dad ! 
And Johnny ! How happy he will be when he hears the 
news! He always liked Edgar. (Looks round.) They 
may call soon — (tidies things) and my heart will gladden 
at sight of them. 

Knocks at C. D. 

Eilee7i (starts, and whispers to her father) — Father ! 
They are at the door ! (She trembles.) What shall I do? 
Where shall 1 go? 

Mr. W. (jestingly and in a whisper) — Into the cellar, 
and I'll tell them that you went out, and that I don't know 
when you will return. (Smiles.) 

Eileen — Oh, no, father ; seriously now; I'm greatly 
agitated, too much so to admit them. I'll retire to my 
room. (Walks toward R. D.) Please admit them, and 
after a short time come and call me. 

Mr. W.—h\\ right, my child; all right. 

Exit Eileen R. D. 

Mr. IV. (opens C. D., enters Will, Ed. and M. A., 
each carrying a parcel) — 

f^z// (grasps Mr. W.'s hand) — How do you do, Mr. 
Wells ? 

Mr. IV.— Ah, my boy, Will! I'm well, thank you, 
and I'm glad to have you with us again. 

JVill — Thank you. I'm glad to be back among my 
old friends. Now, I'll divest myself of this parcel. (Puts 
parcel on chair, and Ed. puts his on top of it.) 

Mr. IV. — Yes, Will; make yourself at home. 

JVill — Mr. Wells, my return trip has been in the com- 
pany of an old friend, who is now with me, and who stands 
ready to shake hands with you — Edgar Deane. 

Mr. IV. (extends hand, which Edgar grasps) — I am 
pleased to shake hands with you, Edgar. I have heard of 
your success, and I congratulate you on your recent 
splendid achievement. 

Ed. — I thank yon. 

Mr. IV. — Now, please be seated. (Ed. sits down.) 



EILEEN: A FOUR ACT PLAY. 25 

M. A. (looking round) — I'm looking for Eileen. Isn't 
she at home ? 

Mr. IV. — Yes, she is at home. You'll find her in her 
room. 

(Mrs. A. carrying parcel, knocks at R. D., and is 
admitted.) 

Will — Now, Mr. Wells, I'm going next door to c^ll on 
the Pembertons, whilst Kdgar tells you all about himself. 

iWr. IV.— Very well. Will. You'll be back again? 

Will— Oh, yes! I'll not stay long. (Pat's Ed. on 
back.) 

Exil Will by C. D. 

(A long pause.) 

Mr. W. — Well, Edgar. (Ed. rises and paces floor.) 
I am waiting. 

Ed. (quietly and sincerely) — Yes. When I left 

home, it w^as my intention, as you know, to take up the 
study of medicine as soon as all matter connected with m}- 
uncle's estate had been settled. (Tremor in voice.) You 
will not care to have me go into the details of my failure to 

carry out that intention. It is not pleasant to learn 

of a man's failure to live up to his honest convictions — it 
is not pleasant to hear from his own lips the confession of 
that failure. The pain that comes into the breast of the 
hearer, because of the keen disappointment in his fellow- 
man is not so intense as that which goads the sufferer on 
to apph' the caustic, with his own hands, to his self- 
inflicted wounds. That " The sinner never sins to him- 
self alone," is a recognized truth. .(Raises his voice.) In 
my wrong doing, I brought sorrow to your little home ; 
saddened the eyes of the woman that I love — your daugh- 
ter — for which, I humbly ask your forgiveness. 

Mr. W. (extends hand which Ed. grasps) — You have 
it Edgar! I do forgive you! (Tremulously.) God knows 
that I am glad to have you come back to us. 

Ed. — Your expression of kindliness hurts whilst it 
heals. (Wears a pained look.) 

Mr. W. — You need not saj^ any more, Edgar. I know 
that you have come to ask me for the hand of Eileen in 
marriage and I may not say you "nay." Eileen has pined 
for you, has hoped for you, has believed in you. In her 



26 EILEEN: A FOUR ACT PLAY. 

prayers for the protection of her loved ones, your name lias 
been first and foremost — of that I am snre. You know her 
birth and bringing up — her parents came from good fami- 
lies — she has enjoyed fair educational advantages, and that 
she did not throw them awa)-, all who know her would be 
willing to testify. Her birthplace is the only city that she 
has ever seen, but she carries in her cerebral storehouse 
(with smile) the descriptions which she has read of the 
leading cities; the native places and last earthly abodes of 
the famous men and women of Religion, Patriotism, Art, 
Music and Poetry. 

Ed. — I shall have a most companionable wife. How 
can I ever sufficiently thank you for the gift ? 

Mr. W. — Of that we will speak when there is no 
danger of interruption. Nozu, about the marriage! I sup- 
pose that you wish it to take place soon, so as to go back 
home and begin practice? 

Ed — That is it. I dislike to lose any time and Will 
and I thought that the ceremony might be performed this 
evening. (Mr. W. starts.) 

Mr. W. — So soon, Edgar? Howl shall miss my little 
housekeeper! 

Ed. — Miss her ? Not at all — you are going with us. 

Mr. W. — Oh, no! I couldn't think of such a thing! 

Ed. — No need to think of it. Will and I have at- 
tended to that. (Picks up parcel.) Here is a suit of 
clothes for you; let's tr}^ them on and see how they fit — 
Mother Armitage is assisting Eileen. 

Mr. W. — But Edgar; there is John who is away at 
school. 

Ed. — ^John is to live with us and attend college in 
New York. Why, Mr. Wells! I shouldn't, for a moment, 
think of taking Eileen east and leaving her father and 
brother behind. Either all go or all stay, which is it ? 

Mr. IV. (smiling and reaching for Ed's hand) — Well, 
my boy, I'll leave it all to you. (They shake hands.) 

Ed. — Very good! Now let me assist 5^ou (goes toward 
L. D.) in your change of attire. 

Exit Ed. and Mr. W. by L. D. 

Enter M. A. with Eileen who is newly and becoming- 
ly gowned. 



EILEEN: A FOUR ACT PLAY. 27 

M. A. (viewing Eileen) — Yes, everything is perfect. 
(Eileen turns round for inspection — her face aglow with 
smiles.) You <^^ \oo\^ lovely — perfectly lovely. Edgar will 
pronounce you a "dream of beauty." 

Eileen — And what will. Father say? 

M. A. — How do you feel in your new outfit, comforta- 
ble? 

Eileen — Decidedly so! I wonder if it is so with all 
people! 

M. A. — If what is so? 

Eileen — If good clothes always bring to the wearer a 

certain — spirit — of oh, I guess that it might be called 

independence. 

M. A. laughs. 

Eileen — When one's clothes are patched, frayed and 
worn at the seams, they very often bring to the wearer a 
spirit of humility. Let them be changed for garments that 
are well-made and of fine quality, and humility .is forced to 
retire by her opponent — self-assertion. (Smiles gayly.) 
Now, what do you think of my logic or do you think that 
it is logic ? 

M. A. (smiling) — Well, yes — it is of that order. 

Eileen (sincerely) — Ah, Mother Armitage ! I shall 
never forget the poor, the humble and the lowly. 

M. A. — My dear child ! You talk as if you had felt 
the pinch of poverty. You were taking your first lessons 
in pedestrianism when I became acquainted with your 
parents, and I never knew them to be other than in com- 
fortable circumstances. 

Eileen — " Comfortable circumstances !" It is a much- 
abused expression. If practicising extreme economy in 
order to make ends meet is a comfortable circumstance, 
then my inner-vision must be diseased for I fail to see it 
in that light. (Sadl}^ thoughtful.) My memory goes 
back to the night that mother died — I had gone to the 
attic ; away into its darkest corner ; had opened the flood- 
gates, when, suddenly, the little chubby hands of my 
brother came in contact with my face, and his childish 
treble fell upon mine ear, " 'Leen, is 3^ou 'doin to be 
muvver, now?" (Handkerchief to eyes.) It seemed as 
if the dear Lord had sent him to me. Up the rickety stairs 



28 EILEEN: A FOUR ACT PLAY. 

and into that dark corner that little angel came, and he 
brought to me an earnestness of purpose which still abides 
with me. (Brightens.) Edgar shall not find in me an 
extravagant wife ; far from it. I shall always practice 
economy, for I believe it to be a beautiful virtue. I shall 
ever strive to aid the needy. 

M. A. — I am sure of that ! 

Eileen — I have known privation — the bitter, bitter kind 
— the few small wants that are denied a hearing ; the 
smouldering ambition in need of the 07ie fresh ember ; the 
mental hunger and thirst that might be appeased b}^ the 
homeliest fare — a bit of bread and a cup of cold water — 

Knock at C. D. — Eileen starts. 

AT. .4.— Hush-sh ! Eileen ! (Goes toward C. D.) This 
may be Edgar. (Opens door — enter Will.) Oh ! It is you ! 

Will (hurries to Eileen) — Eileen ! (In a burst of 
admiration.) You are beau-ti-ful — positively radiant! 
(Eooks round ) Where's Edgar and your father? 

M. A. — Weren't they with you? (He shakes head 
negatively.) Eileen and I listened for voices and not 
hearing any we concluded that you, Mr. Wells and Edgar 
had gone out. 

Will (goes to L. D.) — I went over to call on the Pem- 
berton's — left Ed. here with Mr. Wells. (Knocks at L. D.) 

Ed. (voice from room to left) — Well? 

Will — It is I, Will. Can I be of any assistance? 

Ed. (from within room to left — opens door) — Yes ; 
come in. 

Exit Will by E. D. 

M. A. — Now Eileen ! I think that I'll go over and see 
what progress Sarah has made with the dinner. I'll be 
back soon. (At CD.) 

Eileen (at C. D ) — Don't hurry. I fear that you wdll 
be tired out b}^ night-fall. (M. A. passes out by C. D.) 
Good-by ! 

(Eileen looks out after M. A. — Will enters from L. D. 
and walks over toward Eileen — stands behind her, admir- 
ing her.) 

Eileen (closes CD. and turns — starts on seeing Will, 
then steps close to him and puts her hand in his.) 



J 



EILEEN: A FOUR ACT PLAY. 29 

Eileen — Will, dear ! This is the first opportunity that 
I have had to thank you for 3 our generous conduct toward 
me. I do thank you, with all m}^ heart ! You have helped 
to make it possible for me to become Edgar's wife. 

Will — Perhaps. 

Eileen — Tell me about it ! 

Will — We have scarcely time — but in brief (steps away 
from her) when I went east, I found Edgar almost in a 
state of collapse. (Her face wears an expression of pain.) 
His conscience was furiously lashing him for his unmanly 
conduct toward 3'ou. He flew into a rage of self-accusa- 
tion as soon as I had entered his apartments — said that he 
was the basest of scoundrels (she turns her head as if in 
shame) and was deserving of no man's sympath^^ I then 
suggested that it was not too late to repair the wrong that 
he spoke of and that I t^ad come to help him make repara- 
tion. (She turns and looks at him.) He grasped my hand 
and I thought that he would never leave off shaking it. 
He said that he had been thinking of what would be best 
for him to do — that he had thought of taking up the study 
of medicine — and I told him to go ahead. He did so, and 
bravely fought his way all along the line — he made an 

excellent showing — carried off "class-honors" — and 

you know the rest. (He paces to and fro.) 

Eileen — The last two years have seemed interminable 
to me — I have counted the days, weeks and months as they 
passed, for you promised and I hiew that you would fulfil 
l/ial promise. (Handkerchief to eyes.) 

Will (suddenly halts) — Yes — (thoughtfully) I Imve 
/ul/illed llial -pronusQ. (Brightens and turns toward her.) 
Wait 'till Edgar sees you! (She smiles.) He will con- 
gratulate himself in rapid succession. 

Eilee7i (smiling) — Are you sure? (Playfully shakes 
finger at him.) No flattery ! 

IF///— Not a bit of it. Not a bit of it. But, I'm for- 
getting ! I came in to prepare you for your father's appear- 
ance. His broadcloth fits him to perfection and it is most 
becoming. 

(Enter at L. D., Edgar, followed by Mr. W. newly 
arra3^ed — Eileen and Ed. rapidly advance tow^ard each 
other — a warm hand-shake follows.) 



80 EILEEN: A FOUR ACT PLAY. 

Eileeji — How good it is to have you among us, again ! 
almost too good to be true. 

Ed. (earnestly) — But it is true — thank God for it ! 
Why Eileen (admiringly) the sight of you is to me what 
the early spring blossoms are to the lover of nature — a7i 
anthem, in which ni)^ heart rejoices. (Waves her to her 
father.) And your father 

Eileen (rushes to her father) — Oh, father ! (Takes his 
hand — stands off and views him.) How very handsome ! 

Mr. f^. (smiling) — There, there, Eileen! Moderately, 
moderateh^ if you please. 

Eileen (leans on his arm) — You dear, darling dadd}^ ! 
You look so very fine and elegant — you do, indeed ! It 
gives me great pleasure to see my father arrayed like the 
gentleman that he really is. And (spreads herself) they 

tell me that I look beau-ti~iu\. -Do yon think (Stops 

suddenly upon recollecting his blindness — continues softly 
with emotion.) I forgot ! Forgive me, dear, forgive me ! 
(Burst of tearfulness — she leans upon his breast. Will and 
Ed, turn away.) Oh, Father ! If you could see me on ni}- 
wedding day ! (Mr. W. holds her to his breast.) 

Will (with infectious joyousness) — Mr. Wells ! (Eileen 
and Mr. W. are alert.) I'll serve as Eileen's talking mir- 
ror. (All smile.) Behold, a beautiful maiden, with all 
the graces of dainty womanhood, arrayed in her going-away 
gown ! The gown is one of Felix' perfect creations ; the 
color — (he hesitates — Eileen prompts him) an exquisite 
shade of gra}-. The waist and the skirt are beautifully 
embroidered — the embroidery is the work of one of those 
saintly women — the nuns of Notre Dame — (to Eileen) 
what do 3^ou call that stuff around the neck and hands, 
Eileen ? 

Eileen (amused) — Chiffon. 

^F/// (puzzled)— Chiff— what? (All smile.) 

Eileen (merril}) — Chiff^?/, 

Will (says it over to himself several times) — Gray 
chiffon at neck and wrists — a hat, gloves and wrap to match 
dress — Mother Armitage' gift to the bride elect (Eileen 
surveys herself.) Diamonds — Edgar's gift. (Eileen feels 
of her earrings — then shakes her head to make them shake. ) 



EILEEN: A FOUR ACT PLAY. 31 

Mr. W. (taking Eileen's hand) — I can plainly see 
you, Eileen, and let me add my compliments to those which 
yow have already received. 

(Knock at C. D.— Ed. opens door— Enter M. A.) 

M. A. (excitedly) — Well, the minister cannot come ! 

Ed. , Mr. W. , Will, Eileen— ' Cannot come ! 

M. A. — Yes, "cannot come." He has a severe cold, 
and the doctor has forbidden him to leave his room until 
all danger of pneumonia is past. He sent his wife over to 
tell me. She said that he would perform the ceremou}^ at 
the parsonage, if we wished him to do so — that he had 
known Eileen and Edgar since their childhood days, and 
that he should be pleased to pronounce the words that 
would make them man and wife. (Eileen looks at Edgar.) 

Ed. — Just as you say, Eileen. 

Eileen (looks at her father) — And I'll leave it for 
father to decide. 

Mr. IV. (pleasantly)— Well then! We'll go to the 
parsonage for I should like Pastor Williams to perform the 
ceremony. 

M. A. — Very well ! I counted on that decision, and 
the carriages are at the door. Come, Mr. Wells (she takes 
his arm) and Will, we'll occupy the carriage at the door, 
and we'll go right over and prepare Pastor Williams for 
their coming. (Will and Mr. W. pass out at C. D.) 

3f. A. (in doorway) — You (to Eileen and Ed.) may 
follow in about fifteen minutes. 

Exil at C. D. Mother A. 

(Eileen rushes into Ed's arms and they stand in a 
loving embrace — she raises her lips to be kissed ) 

Ed. — I may noj: kiss you until I hear you say that I 
am forgiven. 

Eileen — And / should not permit you to do so if you 
had not been forgiven. (This time he kisses her up-raised 
lips.) 

Curtain. 



32 EILEEN: A FOUR ACT PLAY. 



ACT III. 

Dan' I ushers Will and M. A. inlo siiting-rooin. 
Time — Even ing. 

Dan'' I — Mistress Deane will be here .directh^ (A 
wonderful sweep of the hand and a deep ob^ance.) 

Exit Van' I by H. D. 

M. A. (sitting down) — The airs of that man are simply 
awful! 

Will (smiling) — He is anxious to make a good im- 
pression. 

M. A. (laughingly) — Yes. Well, he has succeeded. 
(With laugh.) 

E?itey Eileen by H. D. 

Eileen (in the embrace of M. A.) — Ah, Mother Armi- 
tage! At last I have you with me again! (Turns to 
Will.) And Will, (the}^ shake hands) I'm so very glad 
to see you. And your father could not come ? 

Will — No, not without a great deal of inconvenience. 

Eileen (to M. A.) — I'm sorry that he could not come. 

M. A. — Yes, I am too. He w^as desirous of making 
the trip but he is expecting three or four agents from East- 
ern houses and wishing to see them, he thought best to 
remain at home. He sent his love (Will sits down) and 
a kiss (she kisses Eileen) to "little Eileen" as he always 
calls you. 

Eilee?i — Yes; and he is well? 

J/. ^. — Quite well. Will and I are well — the Pem- 
bertons are well and your native city is well. (All smile.) 

Eileen — All are well! That is, surely, good news. 
Now, won't 3^ou (looks from one to the other) have a cup 
of tea and a light repast? 

M. A. — No, thank you. (Sits down.) Will and I 
had dinner on the train. 

Eileen (to Will) — Not a cup of excellent tea? 

Will — No, thank you, Eileen; not to-night. 



EILEEN: A FOUR ACT PLAY. 33 

Eileen — Edgar was called to the bedside of one of his 
patients about an hour ago. 

Will — How is Edgar ? 

M. A.— Yes. 

Eileen (slowl^O — Well, Edgar is not so well as he 
might be. He is very busy. His practice has grown to 
such immense proportions that I sometimes fear for the 
result. I have pleaded with him to take a few months 
vacation but he seems to think that such a step would do 
him more harm than good. Will! (Pleadingly.) Won't 
you talk to him and try to induce him to take a long rest? 
I'm sure that he would listen to. you! 

Will — I will, indeed ! (Rises and walks to and fro.) 
This is a surprise to me. Did you write about this to 
mother ? 

M. A. (interruptingly) — No, she didn't. 

Eilee7i — I didn't, because I always read my letters to 
Edgar, and he has seemed so low-spirited that I have hesi- 
tated about introducing the subject. 

M. A (brightly)— 77/ tell you what we will do ! 
(Eileen and Will are all attention.) M}- sister, Annie (to 
Eileen), has, as 3'ou know, a beautiful country home, not 
a hundred miles from here. Will and I have counted on 
spending several weeks there, with her — We'll take Edgar 
with us. 

Will — The very thing. I'll talk him into going ! 

Eileen (pleased) — And I think that — he — will — go. 

M. A.—YLe must go. (Rises.) We won't take "No" 
for an answer (smiles). Well, Eileen, dear, I am tired, 
and it is getting late — but. Will and I haven't seen the baby. 

Eilee7i (gaily) — Oh, yes ! You must see my little bo}' 
before you retire (goes to bell). I'll summon the nurse 
(rings). He is a good baby — is never Cross — seldom cries 
— and grows sweeter every day. (M. A. smiles.) 

(Nurse Marie appears with baby.) 

Marie (baby in arms) — You rang for zebabee, madam? 

Eileen (takes baby) — Yes, Marie. We will keep him 
here for a while. 

Marie (kisses baby) — Verj^ good, madam (seriously), 
Marie will not smile till cee sees him again. 

Exit Marie. All senile. 



34 EILEEN: A FOUR ACT PLAY. 

Eileen (smiling and showing baby to M. A.) — Marie's 
love for little Edgar is my joy and delight, She tells me 
that she is (French accent) '"miserable" when he is out of 
her sight. (All smile.) 

M. A. (admiring baby) — The dear little boy ! I don't 
blame Marie, for he is sweetness itself. (M. A. kisses 
baby.) 

Eileen (going toward Will) — Now candidly, Will ; 
have you ever seen a more lovely bab}^ ? 

Will (looking at baby) — Now, Eileen ! / think all 
babies lovely ! (M. A. is amused.) 

Eileen (pouting and drawing away) — You are very 
unkind. I did not ask you for your opinion of all babies., 
but of my baby. 

Will (laughs confusedly) — Oh, well ! That's so — let 
me see him again. (She shows him the baby.) Well, I 
think that your baby 

Eileen — Yes ? 

Will — Is more lovely than any baby that I have ever 
seen. 

Eileen — To be sure you do ! And noiv^ which 

parent does he most strongly resemble ? 

(^M. A. chuckles — Will is confnsed.) 

Will (aside) — Now I am in a tight place — all babies 
look alike to me. (Looks at baby — then aloud.) / Ihink 
that — he looks like his father. 

Eilee7i {smiling) — Do you? I think so, too. (Kisses 
baby.) 

Will — He has his mother's nose — 

Eileen — Oh, no — no ! (M. A. chuckles.) 

Will — Well, what I mean is, that his nose looks like 
his mother's. (All smile.) 

Eileen — Yes ; I know what you meant — but — I don't 
know — (looks at baby from different points of view) — 
maybe — (hugs baby.) 

iW. A. — Let me have him ! Mother Armitage wants 
little Edgar to become well acquainted with her. 

Eileen (placing the baby in M. A's lap) — There now ! 
Don't let him fall ! (Will is amused.) And now, I must 
show you a pretty pair of bootees (goes to a table and gets 
bootees) which I finished a few hours ago. (Holds them 



EILEEN: A FOUR ACT PLAY. 85 

Up before M. A.) Don't you thiuk that they are "sweet"? 
(Will chuckles.) 

M. A. — Oh ! so very, very pretty. (Takes bab3^'s feet 
in her hand.) And all for the little boy's toesies ! 

Eileen — Be careful, mother ; don't squeeze his little 
toes too tightly — (M. A. and Will exchange amused looks) 
you might get them out of shape. (Eileen shows bootees 
to Will.) What do you think of them; Will ? I did every 
bit of the work. (M. A. is amused.) 

Will — They are very neat — very pretty — and what use 
are you going to make of them ? 

Eileen — "What use ?" Why, they are for little Edgar's 
feet ! What other use could I make of them ? 

Will (shrugs his shoulders) — I didn't know. For his 
feet, are they? (Takes them and looks at them.) And 
what are they called ? 
Eileen — B ootees . 

Will (sheepishly)—" Bootees ! " (M. A. and Eileen 
laugh.) 

Will (hands bootees to Eileen) — Well ! I suppose that 
"Bootees" is the diminutive of boots. (Sighs.) I've a 
great deal to learn. 

M. A. — I declare ! v The little boy has six teeth ! 
Eileen (gayly) — Yes! (Puts bootees away.) And 
you have found them ! (Stands near M. A.) Aren't they 
dear little "toofins?" (Will looks sheepish.) And just 
like his papa's. (Will and M. A. exchange looks of 
amusement.) I'll take him, mother; his dear little eyes 
are beginning to close. (Goes to bell — rings.) I'll let 
Marie have him. 

M. A. (rises) — And then we will retire and in the 
morning we will have a good, long talk. 

Marie appears. 
Eileen — You may take him, Marie. (Places baby in 
Marie's arms.) He is fast asleep. 

Exit Marie, with baby. 
Eilee7i (to M. A.) — Now, I'll go to your room with 
you. (M. A. passes out.) You (to Will), will occupy 
your old room. Will. Edgar always calls it "Will's 
room." You will find the morning and evening papers on 
the little corner table — good- night. 



86 EILEEN: A^FOUR ACT PLAY. 

Will — Good-night, Eileen. 

Exit Eileen. 

Will (thoughtfully) — I'm sorry that Edgar is not feel- 
ing well ! Eileen is worried, though she tries not to 

appear so. I wonder if she is holding something back — 
hardly — I hope not — I hope not. 

Exit Will by H. D. 

(Enter Edgar by H. D. He has a crazed look — stands 
a second in center of room — looks round — then goes to 
desk — sits down — rests elbow on desk and head on hand.) 

(Enter Eileen by H. D. Upon beholding Edgar she 
hesitates, then slowly approaches him — places her hand on 
his shoulder — caressingly strokes his hair — he raises his 
eyes and looks at her — he still wears a dazed-look — she 
presses her face to his face ) 

Eileen (softly and entreatingly) — Edgar, dear ! Make 
your wife your confessor. Tell me, sweetheart, what is the 
cause of your fallen countenance and air of deep abstrac- 
tion ? (He bows his head and takes her hand in his.) I 
am worried for fear that the cause lies with myself. Tell 
me, Edgar, is it anything that / have do7ie, or that I have 
left undone, that makes you wear so dejected a look? (He 
pats her hand — then holds it to his face.) 

Ed. — No, my dear Eileen, it is nothing that you have 
done. I — I — (rises) — I — 

Eileen — You — you are troubled. Your close applica- 
tion to your studies has undermined your health. (He 
paces the floor.) Your practice has become extensive in 
the extreme. You have been so very faithful in the per- 
formance of your professional duties — you need rest. 

Ed. (shakes his head) — No, Eileen ; it is not that. 

Eileen (worried look and pained tone) — Not that, 
Edgar? Then, what is it? (She stands before him.) 
Please tell me ! It is not I — it is not want of rest. (Thinks, 
then starts.) It is, perhaps, the loss of your fortune. (He 
looks dreamily before him.) You are silent? (Slowl3^) 
It is the loss of your fortune ! (Pleadingly.) Look at me, 
sweetheart ! Don't think that I will make your loss harder 
to bear by foolish wailing and lamentations. There are no 
tears in my eyes ; my footing is firm and I have no creep- 
ing sensation of fear. (He starts to pace floor.) We will 



EILEEN: A FOUR ACT PLAY. 37 

seek some modest apartment — reduce our expenses to the 
minimum and within a few years all will be smooth sailing. 
Come now ! Don't entertain any gloomy forebodings ! For 
the sake of our baby boy — 

Ed. (suddenly awakening) — Yes ! Our boy ! (Re- 
sumes walk. ) 

Eileen — Yes, Edgar, dear ! Our baby — for his sake 
we must be brave. (He sits down.) Why, if need be, I 
can work. (Holds up her hands.) My hands are strong ; 
my heart is stout and my health is perfect. (Pats him on 
the back.) Cheer up, sweetheart, cheer up! How often 
have you told me that the riches of the world were as noth- 
ing when compared with my love for you and the light of 
our baby's eyes ! 

Ed. (hastily rising) — Oh, Eileen ! You do not under- 
stand — your surmises are wrong — altogether wrong ! 

Eileen (stares at him) — I — have — not — guessed your 
trouble ? It — is; — not — pecuniary losses ? 

Ed. (pacing) — No, no ! It is not that, it is — much 

worse — (Eileen starts.) — much worse ! 

Eileen (slowly recovering herself) — "Much worse!" 
(She rushes to him, grasps his hand and continues in 
husky tones.) Edgar! Whatever it be — tell me — tell me ! 

Ed. — My poor wife ! (Vacantly.) You — are threat- 
ened with — the loss — of your husband. (She lets go of 
his hand.) 

' Eileen — My husband ! You mean ? — 

Ed. — That I have been sorely tried and tempted. (She 
gazes at him with a look of deep inquiry.) I am at war 
with myself — the struggle going on within me is a terrific 
one. I can't explain — (with effort) not now — not now. I 
may go away for a few days — I can't tell how long I shall 
remain 

Eileen (finds her voice) — But Edgar, our guests ! What 
explanation could I offer them — what excuse for your 
sudden leave-taking ? It would grieve me to mar their 
visit. Thirik (he starts) of what you are about to do — 
think — 

Ed. (rushes to her and fiercely grasps her by the hand) 
—''ThinkV "Think?" It is that— THINKING— that is 



38 EILEEN: A FOUR ACT PLAY. 

stealing my senses. If I do much more of it I shall be a 
fit subject for a madhouse. (Laughs hystericall j^ ) 

Eilee?i — Hush, Edgar dear ! (Places her hand to his 
mouth.) Hush — sh ! (He becomes quiet.) Go to your 
room; lie down and rest. (She leads him toward door. ) 
That is what you need, dear, rest — rest. (He breaks from 
her and starts for hallway. ) 

Ed. — The air — I must go out — I cannot stay in-doors. 

Eileen (pleadingly) — Oh, do not leave the house, feel- 
ing as you are. Let me call Will ! (He starts.) • You have 
so often spoken of him as ' ' The perfect type of true man- 
hood." You have said that you could trust your all to 
him, without a fear or qualm. (Ed seems to awaken 
to her suggestion.) Then whj^ can you not now confide 
in him? 

Ed. — I'll do as you suggest. Tell Will to come to me 
— (Eileen steps to his side ) Tell him — 

Eileen — Yes ? 

Ed. — that I am in trouble — that I 7ieed him. If the 
man lives who can help me, that man is Will Armitage. 

Eileen (tenderly) — Edgar ! Sweetheart of old ! I 
know not what j^our trouble is, but I ask you to tell Will 
all about it — hold nothing in reserve- — I'll call him. 

Exit Eileen. 

Ed. (rushes to exit) — Eileen! Eileen! 

Eileen retui-ns. 

Ed. — I have changed my mind. I haven't the moral 
courage to face Will and acknowledge myself the monster 
that I really am. The touch of divinity in Will Armitage 
is not strong enough to overcome his human emotions. 
He would denounce me as a traitor (she starts) and the 
name would not be misapplied. (He turns to her.) On 
the eve of our marriage. Will Armitage reposed in my 
keeping a sacred trust, upon my promise never to betray it. 
That promise is broken. (Paces the floor.) 

Eileen (timidly) — And in the breaking of it, you, per- 
haps, have sinned? 

Ed. (grows fierce) — "Sinned?" Aye, grievously. 
(She shrinks from him.) / am a degenerate — I have com- 
mitted a crime! And I shall soon pay the penalty with 
my life. 



I 



EILEEN: A FOUR ACT PLAY. 89 

Eileen (shrieks, hurries to his side; speaks rapidl}^ 
and with great effort) — You do not mean what you have 
just said Your trouble is imaginative or, at most, ex- 
aggerated — tell me that it is. (Her excitement increases.) 
Tell me that it is the work of a feverish brain — that you 
are tired out in body and mind — that this thing of which 
you accuse yourself is but the phantajm of a disordered 
mind. (Straighten to her full height and rises to a climax. ) 
Tell me that you have lied to me — and (lowers voice) I 
will believe it. 

Ed. — But I have not lied. What I have told you 

is the t^ith. 

Eileen (totters as if from a blow — goes stealthily to H. 
D. and back — wild-eyed expression) — This (whisperingly) 
must never reach the ears of the public. (Grasps his arm. ) 
For the sake of our little one, we must conceal it. I will 
help you. (Excitedly.) What must I do ? Tell me, 
quickly ; I am ready to act — what must I do ? 

Ed. (with folded arms ; vacant look) — You can do 
nothing — it is too late ! 

(Will appears in doorway and is shocked at the 
scene before him.) 

.Eileen — "Too late" you say? (Clasps hands and 
raises eyes. ) * ' Too late ' ' to save my innocent babe from 
the scourging tongue of the uncharitable ! (Emotional.) 

Oh, Edgar Deane ! You have, indeed, committed a 

crime. (Will steps into room — they do not see him.) To 
be dealt. so cruel a blow by the father of my little bo}^ is, 

indeed, a bitter, bitter draught. (Faintly.) I have 

nothing to offer you — except — pity. — (goes toward H. D. — 
doesn't see Will.) — pity. 

Exit Eileen by H. D. 

Will (hurries to Edgar) — Edgar ! my boy ! (takes his 
hand) what does this mean ? 

Ed. (raises his head — when he sees Will he starts and 
withdraws his hand from Will's) — Don't touch me. Will ! 
I am unclean ! I have broken my promise — I have betraj^ed 
the trust that you reposed in my keeping — (Will starts) — 
and I voluntarily place myself under the ban of your friend- 
ship. 



40 EILEEN: A FOUR ACT PLAY. 

Will (emotional) — How great is my disappointment ! 
I told you a few hours before your marriage, that if you 
ever harmed Eileen you need never look for forgiveness 
from me. But let me not be in error ! Tell me what you 
have done. 

Ed. (brightens) — I'll do it ! The confession may make 
me strong to resist the onslaught of my terrible foe. (lyooks 
round nervously.) My trouble — (long pause) — 

Will—Y^s, Ed. Your trouble f 

Ed. (vacantly) — first came upon me about one year 

ago. I had been suffering from loss of sleep — (Will 

starts as of divining the truth.) — brought on by the irregu- 
lar hours which fall to the lot of many men of my profes- 
sion. I resorted to a narcotic — the doses were steadily in- 
creased. (Sighs.) KS'^V^<"^ //^^;^, my existence has been that 
of an abject slave. I have lived — a dual life (sadl)^; one, 
here with my family; the other — as the subject of a tyranni- 
cal king — laudanum ! I crowned and sceptered him in an 
unguarded moment. (Starts, and looks at Will.) Yes, 
yes; you are here. I have confessed my transgression to 
you — (extends hand to Will). Can you forgive me ? 

Will (grasps Ed. 's hand) — I ca7t, and I do forgive you. 
(puts hand to eyes). My eyes are wet — the first tears that 
I have shed since the little Jones' boy carried off my top 
and marbles, just twenty years ago. (Earne'stly.) Ed! 
I'm going to help you. " It is never too late to mend." 
(Paces floor as if in deep thought.) 

Ed. — If I could believe it — if I could believe it ! 

Will (takes his hand) — Cheer up, my boy ; cheer up ! 
I'm going to take yon out to my Aunt Annie's country- 
home— about a hundred miles from here. It is a charming 
place. Indeed, I may say that it is somewhat renowned 
for its slendid oaks, gorgeous flower beds, hot-house rari- 
ties and beautiful orchard. The art of entertaining is one 
of Aunt Annie's many accomplishments. She is a biblical 
student ; a collector of ancient manuscripts and biography 
— (Ed. starts) — is her forte — and that is your chief delight, 
is it not ? 

Ed. — It used to be. 

Will — "It used to be," and it will be. (Ed. becomes 
interested and pleased.) Why, I believe that Aunt Annie 



EILEEN: A FOUR ACT PLAY. 41 

could tell you of incidents in the lives of Hippocrates and 
his followers that would more than interest you. (Ed. 
laughs.) The rest and quiet, of which you are in need, 
can be found only a few miles away and we will (pats 
Ed.) go in search of it. Come now, cheer up ; brace up ; 
exercise a little will-power and the war is yours. 

Ed. — My good friend ! You have struck the keynote 
of my great distress — '^ will-power,^'' that is it; I haven't a 
bit of it left and its loss has robbed me of hope. 

Will (authoritatively) — Listen to me! Have you an}^ 
of the drug in the house ? 

Ed. — I have not (starts toward H. D.) and I must get 
some or the night will be an endless one. 

Will (hurriedly places himself between Ed. and exit 
and begins in a reverential tone) — " Whatsoever ye would 
that men should do to you ^ do ye even so to thein.'''' The 
mandate that governs my present action. Give me your 
keys. (Reaches out his hand and Ed. mechanically hands 
them over.) Now^ go to your room; lie down and rest. 
(Ed. starts to go,) But, before you go, (Ed. stops) promise 
me that you will not attempt to go out alone to-night. //", 
after you have lain down, you find that you can neither 

sleep nor rest, come to me! And if you must go out Fll 

go with you. (Extends hand,) 

Ed. (grasping Will's hand) — I promise you, Will ; I 
promise you ! 

Ed passes out H. D. tur?is to left. 

Will — Poor fellow ! I pity him, I do, indeed ! (Paces 
floor.) He has not confessed his failing to Eileen and I 
trust that it will not be necessary for him to do so. I 
believe that his trouble is, to a great extent, borrowed. His 
ill-health has been brought about by study and over-work, 

and 7iot, as he thinks, by the use of the drug. I'll 

go to my room which is next to his, and if I should hear 
him stirring round very much, I'll go and talk to him, plaj^ 
dominoes or do something else to while away the time. 

Exit Will by H. D. to the left. 

(A few moments elapses, when Ed. enters by H. D. 
from left. He is haggard and dishevelled.) 

Ed. (dazed — whisperingly) — Will ! Oh, Will ! Where 
are you, my friend? (Looks round.) I'm here to ask you 



42 EILEEN: A FOUR ACT PLAY. 

to go out with me — the house is stifling — I viust go out ! 
Will ! Do you hear me ? If you do not care to go, give me 
the keys. Will ! (Stands in center of room — looks round — 
suddenly a light of intelligence spreads over his face.) He 
is not here ! He has deserted me ! In my hour of trial — 
I am — alone ! (Brokenly.) I promised him (tears at neck 
of shirt — loosens it in front) that I would not leave the 
house to-night — and my brain is on fire — my throat, 
parched. Just a small draught would ease my aching 
throat — would quiet my nerves — would ward off this fright- 
ful stupor which is creeping upon me. There is no other 
draught that would answer the purpose. (He starts — 
smiles — looks at his desk — walks stealthily to his desk — 
opens it and from a drawer, takes a vial which he uncorks 
— puts vial to his lips and as he drinks he falls to the floor 
— dead.) 

Enter at H. D. fram left^ Will. 
Will (excitedly) — I heard a noise — it sounded as if a 
heav}^ piece of furniture had been overturned — and the 
noise seemed to come from this room. (lyooks around, 
then out into the hall and back again. ) No one stirring ! 
Can it be that my ears have played me false ? I feared 
that it was Edgar. (lyooks and discovers Ed. — rushes to 
him — kneels beside him.) Edgar! It is /, your friend 
Will. (Shakes him.) Edgar! Speak to me! What 
have you done? (Notices vial, picks it up and rising he 
reads label aloud.) " Prussic Acid ! " " Prussic Acid ! " 
(looks at Ed. and in awe-struck manner.) He is dead — 
dead ! 

Curtain. 



EILEEN: A FOUR ACT PLAY. 



ACT IV. 

Time, mor?iing. 

Enter Dan' I at H. D. 

Dan' I — When Mistress Deane returns she will find that 
one of her expected guests has arrived. Miss Daisy Pem- 
berton — and she is "a daisy !" (Smiles and throws up his 
hands. ) A pleasant word for everybody and a laugh that 
makes me feel like dancing. Sure, that's the kind o' gell 
that we need round here ; for, since Master Deane's death, 
this house has been a chilly place to live in. For months 
after his death, the eyes of poor Mistress Deane were 
always red with weeping. Then came the death of her 
baby-boy, which seemed to dry all her tears, for I have 
never seen her cry since the da^^ after little Kdgar was laid 
away. (Hears a sigh.) Heigho ! what a world this is! 
(Starts to leave.) 

Enter Daisy at H. D. 

Da?iU (bowing and smiling) — There are the morning 
papers, Miss (waving hand toward table) and some books 
and magazines Mistress Deane will be here before long. 

Daisy — Thank you, Daniel. You are very thoughtful. 
Exit by H. D, DanU.^ bowing and smiling. 

Daisy (seats herself beside table, picks up periodical 
and reads title aloud) — "A Romantic Episode." (Sighs.) 
I wonder if the stor}^ has a fitting title ! (Reads, turns 
page — is intensely interested — laughs.) Yes — that's the 
way that I feel. (Reads.) Well, well ! That was charm- 
ing of him ! (Reads.) 

(Enter Eileen — dressed becomingly — large sun-hat on 
head and flowers in hand — pauses after entering and looks 
inquiringly at Daisy whose back is toward her.) 

Eileen — Some one to see me ? 

Daisy (rises ; cute courtesy) — Yes — some one to see 
yoji, (Look of disappointment.) You haven't forgotten 
me, Eileen ? 



44 EILEEN: A FOUR ACT PLAY. 

Eileen (brightens and hurries to Daisy) — Daisy Pem- 
berton ! (Thej^ embrace. ) It is you, yourself, and I did 
not know you ! 

Daisy — And is it an}^ wonder? Why, even mamma 
says that I am so changed in looks that she hardl}- knows 
me. 

Eileen (looking at her) — Yes, you are changed — your 
face has become rounded; your eyes are brighter and you 
have some color, which you did not have when I said 
"good-by" to 3^ou on the morning of my departure from 
home. Ah, (draws a long breath) my dear old schoolmate, 
what changes have taken place in my life since that mem- 
orable morning! 

Daisy — Yes, Eileen, dear! And how very sorry I have 
been for you ! 

Eileen (earnestly) — I know it my dear, indeed I do ! 
Sit down. (Rubs eyes.) I declare! I feel as if I had just 
awaked from a long deep sleep — your face comes to me 
from out the past and arouses olden memories. (Dreamily. ) 

I am, really^ beginning to cry. (Sweeps eyes with 

hand.) 

Daisy (hurries to her side) — Eileen, dear; forgive me! 
I am sorry to be the one to bring back your hours of sad- 
ness- — forgive me, dear! 

Eileen — You are mistaken! My tears are tears of 
gratitude for the blessing of renewed vision. I was blind, 
lame in mind and halt of speech, but 3^our coming has 
brought a panacea for my numerous ills. I am truh' glad 
to have 3^ou with me. Oh, (sighs and smiles) how much 
better I feel ! (Reverenth^ and with face turned from 
Daisy.) I can now say my prayers — I'm sure that I can. 
(Turns to Dais}^) And this is really Daisy Pemberton 
who lived next door to me, far back in that dear old 
western town? (Takes Daisy's hand.) 

Daisy (girlishly gleeful) — The same old Daisy\ (With 
laugh.) 

Eileen (takes Daisy to sofa) — Come now, my dear 
girl, you must tell me all about yourself; what has hap- 
pened to 3'ou since I last saw 5'ou; what ^-ou have been 
doing; what you have learned and what you have un- 
learned. 



EILEEN: A FOUR ACT PLAY. 45 

Daisy sighs a^idibly. 

Eileen (merrily) — Why, Daisy ! Is it as serious as all 
of that ! 

Daisy — Yes, Eileen ; just that serious. 

Eileen — Indeed? Well, begin the story ! (Smiles.) 

Daisy — Well ■ to begin with — I'm going to be 

married (Eileen starts) within two months. 

Eileen — To be married? I'm sure that I wish you all 
the happiness in the world ! (They clasp hands. ) 

Daisy — Of course you do ! I knew that you would say 
that. (Embrace.) Oh, Eileen, I am so very, very happy ! 
And only to think of it ! I came all the way from home 
with Mrs. Armitage and I didn't breathe a word of it to 
the dear old soul. But I must confess that I was filled 
almost to wTetchedness, wdth a strong desire to let a word 
or two slip. (Sighs.) But 1 didn't — I didn^t. 

Eileeyi (smiling) — Then you have come on to New 
York to purchase your trousseau ? 

Daisy — Yes, that is what I came for and oh, (estati- 

cally) the delight of it! "Picture it— think of it!" 

And you will assist me, wall yo\x not, Eileen? 

Eileen — If you wish me to — yes. 

Daisy — Oh, how very kind of you ! And the list — 
(stops to think) oh, yes, I left it upstairs on the dresser. 
(Turns to leave.) I must get it and show it to you. You 
may think of some things which may have escaped my 
mind. (Walks to H. D.) 

Eileen — And bring Mother Armitage down with you. 

Daisy (in doorway) — Mother did not come to the house 
with me. She and Will stopped at some law office. 

Eileeyi — But she will be here, later? 

Daisy — Oh, yes. (Eistens.) I think that I hear a 
carriage, now. 

Exit by H. D. to left., Daisy. 

Eileen (thoughtfully) — And — she — did — not — mention 
— the — gentleman's name. It is. likely, some one from 
the old neighborhood. 

Enters at H. D. from right, Mother A. 

M. A. (bustling into room) — Thank you ; yes, here 
she is (they embrace). I met Marie in the hall, and she 
removed my bonnet and wrap. 



46 EILEEN: A FOUR ACT PLAY. 

Eileen — Oh, Mother Armitage (reproachfully), why- 
did you not come in here with your bonnet on and let me 
remove it ? 'Tw^ould have made me feel just five 3^ears 
younger. 

Mother A. hurries out at H. D. 

, Eileen (with questioning look) — Now, what have I 
said ? Something to offend her ? Impossible ! (Starts 
for hall.) 

M. A. enters at H. D. with bonnet and wrap on. 

Eileen (laughingl}^ — Ah, yes ! I might have known! 
(M. A. sits down — looks demure. ) Do lay aside your bon- 
net and wrap, Mother Armitage ! (Eileen unties bonnet 
strings and removes bonnet.) What a pretty bonnet ! A 
new one ? 

M. A. — Yes, Eileen ; that is, the trimmings are new 
— the shape is an eld one done over. 

Eileen — Indeed ? 'Tis beautifully done, for it looks 
like new — (puts it aside and then removes the wrap). 

M. A. — Well, my dear, what have you been doing 
since Mother Armitage' last visit? You are pale and look 
careworn. Is my child still brooding over the irrevoca- 
ble past ? 

Eileen (smoothing M. A.'s hair) — My letters to you 
were faithful reports of the daily routine of my home-life. 
I have done nothing to speak of — absolutely 7iothing; aiid 
I am ashamed of the fact. (Brightens). But — I am feeling 
better to-day than I have felt in ever so long a time. My 
heart is lighter ; my spirits are steadily on the rise (smiles). 

M. A. (sighs) — Well, Eileen dear, I am glad that you 
are in so cheerful a frame of mind, as I am somewhat 
troubled and fretted and I shall feel relieved to talk over 
my little troubles, which I should not think of doing were 
you not feeling well. 

Eileen — You are troubled and fretted'^. And what 
about, pray? 

M. A. — Well, 1 fear that Will is soon to be married. 

Eileen (starts as if shocked) — Will Armitage to marry f 

M. A. — There now ! You are as greatly shocked as I 
was when I heard the news. 

Eileen (recovering herself) — And the lady? 

M. A. — I don't know — he did not tell me. 



EILEEN: A FOUR ACT PLAY. 47 

Eileen — When did you learn the news and from whom ? 

M. A. — I learned it from Will's own lips (Eileen starts 
and is visibly affected) and that too, but a short time ago 
as we were on our way to your home. 

Eileen — What did he say ? 

M. A. — He said — and very abruptly, too : — "Mother ! 

I hope to be married before many weeks." 1 was so 

taken by surprise that I could not find my tongue to ask 
him "when," "where," or an3^thing about it — but he 
vouchsafed the information that the lady of his choice was 
one of his boyhood associates ; was born and brought up 
within a short distance of our home ; that she is of light 
complexion ; has light hair and blue ej^es. 

Eileen (studiously) — Was born and brought up within 

a short distance of your home ? Was one of his boyhood 

associates ? 

M. A. — Yes, and is of light complexion ; has light 
hair and blue eyes. 

Eileen — Could it be Elizabeth Brown? 

M. A. — No, no, Eileen ; Elizabeth is married. 

Eileen — Is she? I didn't know it. Well — then it 
can't be Elizabeth. (Studies.) 

M. A. — / was thinking of Allie Brown — Elizabeth's 
sister. 

Eileen — Yes, but she has brown eyes and brown hair. 

M. A. — To be sure, she has. What am I thinking 
of ? — Well — there is Letitia Watts — she answers the 
description, and she was one of his boyhood associates — 

Eileen — But Letitia always lived on the North Side, 
and never within a short distance of your home. 

M. A. — Y-e-s, but we won't let the distance stand in 
our way. I believe that it is Letitia, for now that I think 
of it, she was alwa3^s making eyes at Will. 

Eileen (looks sadly before her) — I hope that it is not 
she — Will could never find happiness with a girl like 
Letitia — she loves the gayeties and frivolities of a social 
life — she has no depth of nature — (shakes her head du- 
biously) — but, there are many strange alliafices. 

M. A, (wipes tears away) — To me, it is a very bitter 
disappointment ! I have, for years, cherished the hope 
that Will and you would marry. (Eileen starts.) 



48 EILEEN: A FOUR ACT PLAY. 

Eileen — Why, Mother Arniilage ! You — (agitatedly) 
musn't tell this to Will. Promise me that you will make 
no allusion to this chrished hope of yours to Will or any- 
body else ; promise me ; promise me ! 

M. A. (amazedly) — If such a promise will contribute 
to your peace of mind or general happiness, wh}^ you have 
it. But I should like to tell Will of my ^reat disappoint- 
ment. (Eileen fingers papers on table.) I have told m}^- 
self, more than once, that all things tended in the direction 
of a happy terminus of a series of unfortunate events ; and 
now to be disappointed at the eleventh hour ! (Starts for 
hall.) 

Eileen (starts) — Oh ! Mother Armitage ! 

M. A. (stops and looks inquiringly.) 

Eilee?t (in a jerkey waj-) — I believe I have it. 

M. A. (stepping towards Eileen) — Have zvhat, my 
child ? 

Eileen — The — solution — to Will's riddle. The 

name of the woman who is — soon to become Will's wife — 
it is — Daisy Pemberto7i ! 

M. A. (sitting down with a thud) — Daisy Pembertonf 

Eileen (forced smile) — Don't you see? She is of fair 
complexion, has light hair and blue eyes — has always lived 
within a few blocks of your home — and (in a burst of con- 
fidence) is in New York for the purpose of purchasing her 
trousseau ! 

M. A. (starts) — Your informant ? 

Eileen — Was Daisy, herself. She told me that she was 
soon to be married. She asked me to assist her in her 
shopping expeditions. 

M. A. — What impudence ! 

Eileen — No, no ; you are uncharitable. Daisy has 
always been a very dear friend of mine. She is a girl of 
many lovable qualities — a devout, broad-minded christian. 
Indeed ! I know of no other woman who is more deserving 
of an honCvSt man's love 

M. A. (interruptingly) — But, Eileen dear, I came all 
the way from home with her and not once was there the 
least intimation from her that she was soon to marry. 
(Getting ruffled.) You may laud her to the skies but I 
tell you, plainly, that I do not like such actions — they 



EILEEN: A FOUR ACT PLAY. 49 

savor of deceit and subterfuge — and — (starts for H. D.) I 
shall give them both to understand that I heartily dis- 
approve of their conduct in the matter — 

Eileen (hurries to M. A. and grasps her hand) — Where 
are you going ? Surely not to upbraid Daisy for her innocent 
playfulness ? Believe 7iie ! Daisy Pemberton is too honor- 
able to grant even a momentary audience to a deceitful 
motive. You should be proud of your son^^ choice. 

M. A. (apologetically) — I have nothing against Daisy 
— except her extreme reticence. (Eileen smiles.) I did 
not intend to upbraid her. I was going to seek repose 
from the agitation of the past hour — I wish to lie down for 
a short while. 

Eileen (affectionately) — Yes, you are tired. Well, go 
and lie down. Your room is ready for 3'^ou and if there is 
anything wanting ring and let us know. (Leads M. A. to 
H. D., kisses her.) I shall send Marie to your room^with 
a cup of tea. 

M. A. — And it will be good, I'm sure, for Marie is mis- 
tress of the art of tea-brewing. 

Exit M. A. at H. D. 

(Eileen presses hand to eyes, walks slowly to center 
of room.) 

Eileen (in sad tone) — His last letter to me is only a 
week old. In it he says: "Eileen, do not fret; do not 
despond. I will be with you soon, and together we will 
plan for the future." Those are the words — the very 
words. That his interest is brotherly, I now believe. (In 
a sudden burst of grief.) Oh, Edgar! My lost baby — 
would that I had died with thee! 

(Enter at H. D., Daisy, with hat and wrap on and 
buttoning gloves. ) 

Daisy — Eileen, dear, here is the list! (Hands list to 
Eileen.) In my search for it, I worked myself into a 

dreadful fever I'm going out for a short walk — 111 be 

back before long. (She notices traces of tears on Eileen's 
face.) Eileen, (affectionately) what can I do or say to 
comfort you ? / wish that I kyiew! It grieves me to scq 
you in tears. 

Eileen (in choked voice — head averted) — I — am 
— sorry — to grieve you, Daisy. Take yQur walk, dear, and 



so EILEEN: A FOUR ACT PLAY. 

by the time \-ou return, I shall have regained control 
of myself. 

(Daisy quietly leaves room by H. D. Will appears 
in doorwav. Eileen turns to see if she is alone — she sees 
Will.) 

Eileen (in subdued tones) — He has set himself the 

task of telling me I'll lend a generous hand and make 

it easy for him. (Turns toward Will.) Come in, Will, 
come in. (She seems to fortif}' herself.) 

Will (hurries to her) — Eileen I I am, indeed, glad to 
see you. If I could but tell you. — (Stops abruptl}^ and 
looks confused.) 

Eileen — There, there. Will ; you needn't try. I know 
what you would say — (he starts — she doesn't look at him) 
and, I you have my sincere regret. (He starts.) 

Will (great surprise) — Yonr sincere regret f 

Sileen — No, no ! Not regret. (Looks at him.) Did 
I say " regret?" I meant — (sadly and looking away from 
him) ' ' my congratulations. ' ' 

Will (mystified) — ' ' Congratulations ?" 

Eileen (in a faint voice)— I shall always think of you 
as a good, kind brother. 

Will (in low, impassioned tones) — Eileen, you are 
jesting. You must be jesting. 

Eileen (a negative shake of the head) — No, I do not 
jest. Would that I could ! 

Will (softly) — Am I dreaming — dreaming? 

(Will starts for H. D. Eileen turns to look at him — he 
hurries back and extends his hand to her.) 

Will (emotionally) — You were not jesting. I must 
bid you good-by. Say "good-by" to mother for me — I 
shall never return. (Starts to go.) 

Eileen (clinging to Will's arm)— Will ! Will ! Don't 

leave us — your mother and me ! (Will's look changes 

from despair to astonishment.) You could not be so cruel ! 

What is the trouble ? What has happened ? Have you 

quarreled with Daisy ? 

Will—' ' With Daisy ?" I don't understand ! 

Eileen — Tell me all about it and I will go to her and 
try to adjust matters. If you love Daisy, you should not 



EILEEN : A FOUR ACT PLAY. 51 

permit a careless word or a thoughtless act to interrupt 
3^our pleasant courtship. 

Wi7l (aloud to himseli)—// / love Daisy f (To her. ) 
You are getting more mysterious as 3''OU proceed. 

Eileen (aside) — I have made a mistake ! It is not 
Daisy. (To him.) Forgive me, Will, for my presumption ! 
Your mother told me about your talk with her this morn- 
ing, when you were on your way here. After a great deal 
of guessing, we concluded that the lady of your choice — (a 
light dawns upon Will) — could be none other than my 
little guest, Daisy Pemberton. 

Will (laughing) — Wh3\ Daisy Pemberton is engaged 
to your brother John ! 

Eileen (surprised) — To Johnny ! 

Will — He came to me just a month ago and told me 
that he wished to marry, but was fearful of your opposition. 
He asked me to intercede for him. I advised him to wait 
a few years, but he declared that he could not ; that he 
must have it off his mind — (both smile) — in order to get 
down to work and build up his practice. I then told him 
to go to you with his story, and I supposed that he would 
do so. 

Eilee?i (dreamily) — No ; he did not tell me ! Johnny 
and Daisy to marry ! (Suddenly. ) And j^'^?/ are to marry ? 

Will (approaches her smilingly) — Can't you guess ? 
( Her face grows grave ; she shakes her head negatively.) 
What girl, back home, did I associate with more than with 
an}' other girl, who had light hair, blue eyes, and who 
lived but a short distance from my home? (She knits 
her brow reflectively.) She kept house for her father 
and brother — her father was a musician — (Eileen starts — 
Will steps close to and directly behind her) — and her little 
brother's name was Johnny. 

Eileen (with hands pressed to her eyes) — And the 
girl's name? 

Will — Was Eileen. (She throws her arms about his 
neck and he showers kisses on her upturned face.) Are 
3^ou happy now? 

Eileen (looking into his face) — Very., very happy. 

Will — I believe you \ and noiv, Eileen, when am I to be 



52 EILEEN: A FOUR ACT PLAY. 

given the right to address you as my wife — Mrs. Armitage? 
(Both smile.) 

Eileen — Very soon — within a few weeks. 

Enter hurriedly at H. D. Mother A. 

M. A. — No, Eileen, (they start) it isn't Daisy (stops 
abruptly on beholding Will and Eileen). 

Will (turns and presents Eileen) — No, mother, it isn't 
Daisy — it is Eileen. 

M. A. (growing surprised) — What's this, another 
riddle ? 

Will a?id Eileen laugh. 
Will — No, Mother, not this time. There has been a 
great deal of misunderstanding and misapprehension about 
me and my affairs, but it is all very clear now. I have 
asked Eileen to be my wife (M. A. starts — looks happy) 
and she has promised me. 

M. A. (takes their right hands and places them to- 
gether) — My children! This makes me very, very happy. 
I wish you joy untold and may God bless you! 

Ciirtai^i. 



il 



kiiliiiii 



LIBRARY 



CONGRESS 



